Recently, my stepson has come into his own. In the past 4 months, he turned 16, became an all-star on his high school varsity soccer team (1 of 3 sophomores) and got his driver's license.
His new-found freedom has afforded him the luxury of driving himself to school & his infinite number of soccer practices. Hooray! I think I was more elated than he when he got that sheet of paper allowing him to drive a vehicle sans adult passenger. No more carpool, means I don't have to get myself and the toddler out of bed (of course she only slept in on the mornings I had to get her up), stick her in the car half asleep, drive around the neighborhood picking up 5 teenagers and driving them to school in rush hour. I'll especially miss that brat of a kid who could never get his sh*t together on time, had 4 or 5 bags/shoes/books on the loose and always ran late.
So J has been driving himself around for nearly 2 weeks. The other day when his alarm failed him, he panicked and asked for a last-minute ride to school. Huh? What? Why? Do I drive that much faster? No. He just figured it would be easier (which it would've been for him) to not have to worry about parking. Easier for me? Negative. I was just waking up, still in PJs (aka no bra), changing my toddler's diaper and hadn't even started my caffeine ritual. This could not end well. Luckily he spoke to his father/my dear husband, who convinced him he was wasting time trying to get a ride when he could jump in his car and get there. Which he did, of course. Found a parking spot et al. At the end of the day, I asked how he managed to get through the day without his 45minute shower? He responded "My hair was all wrong". LOL I can't imagine the horror he felt every time he saw his reflection with 'imperfect' hair.
So... I put a bottle of Dippity Doo hair gel in his car for such emergencies.
